“He’s called here every day, sometimes twice a day.”
“That’s about work.” She found little breathing room in the barrage of her father’s questioning. “They’ve recently bought a new company.” In her absence, Sebastian had saved the deal with Smythe Industries. “There are a lot of details involved in integrating their employees into Case Consolidated Holdings, and he’s calling me to help the temp with contact information and such.”
“And the kiss he gave you at the hospital?” her dad quizzed, his tone conversational. “How were you planning on explaining that? Improved employer-employee relations?”
“Who told you?” Missy clapped her hands over her hot cheeks. She hadn’t felt this embarrassed since her father had caught her and Wayne Stodemeyer necking in the tool shed when she was fifteen. “If it was David, I’ll…” She let her threat trail off, unwilling to voice her intention to break one of the Ten Commandments to her dad the minister.
“Don’t worry, your brother didn’t rat you out. It was one of the nurses.”
“Great. Just great.”
“Is that why Tim broke up with you?” her father quizzed, revealing that his ability to know everything that went on around him wasn’t quelled by the fact that he’d almost died three weeks ago.
Missy shoved aside that horrifying thought so she could deal with setting her father straight.
“No. Tim broke up with me because I worked too many hours and he was lonely. He found someone new. Sebastian had nothing to do with it.”
Nothing directly. Although in the past few weeks she’d analyzed her relationship with Tim and come to see that her crush on Sebastian hadn’t been as over as she’d assumed. It had interfered with her priorities.
“I see. Are you two a couple then?”
“Sebastian and me?” The words exploded out of her on an incredulous l
augh. “Of course not. I’m not his type. If he ever gets married again, he’s going to choose someone gorgeous, wealthy and sophisticated. Three things I’m not and never will be.”
“Maybe you have it wrong.”
Not possible. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her small town. He’d been polite to her family, but he’d also been sizing everyone up. She wouldn’t trade a single brother, sister-in-law, niece or nephew for anyone from Sebastian’s well-connected circle; but that didn’t mean she was blind to their flaws or shortcomings.
None of her brothers had the sort of ambition that kept them working sixty hours a week at their jobs. The second oldest, Jacob, had taken until he was in his mid-thirties to figure out what he wanted to be when he grew up. They were college educated and had successful careers, but they balanced work with family.
Sebastian wouldn’t recognize the value in balance. He’d chosen business over family.
“Do you have feelings for him?” her dad persisted, breaking into her thoughts.
“Of course. And he has feelings for me. Just not the same sort of feelings.”
Or that’s what she told herself. She really didn’t have a clue what Sebastian wanted beyond her returning as his assistant—or her spending an indefinite amount of time in his bed. Back in Las Vegas, she’d doubted there was a future for them past Las Vegas. Now that he’d seen where she’d grown up, she doubted it even more.
If only she could get that goodbye kiss out of her head. The hungry strength in the arms around her. The way it seemed to take a long time for him to let go. She told herself not to read too much into his daily phone calls or the smooth caress of his tone as he asked her how she was doing.
She rubbed her arms as goose bumps appeared. Beneath her father’s keen regard she finished her chocolate cake and went to start the dishes.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said, his arms sliding around her from behind. He kissed her cheek. “I think you should go back to Houston. You can’t hide out here forever.”
Missy whirled on her father, a protest cocked and ready, but he was already out the door, moving better than he had since coming home from the hospital. He’d done that on purpose, hit her with a blunt opinion and then fled before she could defend herself.
Was she hiding?
Damn right she was hiding.
Almost four weeks ago she’d quit her job and slept with her boss. Returning to Houston meant having to cope with both things. She wasn’t ready to decide on anything more taxing than whether to bake another chocolate cake or to shake things up and try lemon.
“I’m going to the store,” she called, grabbing her purse and the keys to the truck.
“Can you pick up a prescription for me while you’re out?” her father asked from the living room.
Missy made the drugstore her first stop. She could use a tube of toothpaste. All she’d packed before going to Las Vegas was travel-sized toiletries. A week ago she’d run out of her brand and started using her dad’s and didn’t like it at all. Another sign that she needed to go home.